


Of Monsters, Men, and Angels

by Ambriel_at_your_Service



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambriel_at_your_Service/pseuds/Ambriel_at_your_Service
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy with many names and his hard working single mother run into the Winchester brothers while they're hunting for a pack of shifters. Who is this familiar looking boy, with a strange allergy to silver? And how is it that his mother is able to narrowly miss tragedy? An AU for my last story, also based off a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Monsters, Men, and Angels

Somewhere, on the outskirts of a large town, sat a pretty little red brick building, sticking out like a rose in the otherwise bleak landscape. Behind the house was a large concrete lot, fenced in by the same chain link fence that also encompassed the house. In this lot sat a pretty little garden, occupants of the bed ranged from flowers to herbs to berries to vegetables. No matter how hard one searched, not a single slug or weed wound be found amongst the foliage. On top of the flat roof were several solar panels, which even on a cloudy day such as this, gathered enough energy to fuel the residents of the home. 

The second story of the building was sorted into several different rooms. One work room, one large bathroom, two bedrooms, and one guestroom. 

The guestroom was olive green in color, with a large white bed and plush comforters and airy curtains next to the window. There was a large mahogany vanity to one side and a small closet beside it, and a small trunk at the foot of the bed, resting on the plush shag carpet. 

The bathroom wasn't very large, but big enough to fit a shower, a toilet, a sink, and a linen closet. It was a watery blue with white trim, which matched one of the other bedrooms. 

This bedroom was very modest, excluding the large queen bed, whose sheets and blankets were straight as though never slept on. 

The other bedroom, on the other hand, seemed very lived in. The walls were a similar green to the guestroom, but the trim was a warm hazel, if one looked under the gallery of posters hung on the wall, depicting numerous bands. Clothes and food wrappers surrounded the desk shoved in the corner, where a black computer sat, still in sleep mode. A radio and abused alarm clock rested on the nightstand. 

The last room upstairs was the workroom, which was also very lived in. Without the numerous papers, canvases, easels, paints, and brushes, the room would be completely white. However, with all those previously mentioned items, the room was a prism of color. 

Downstairs, unlike it's higher counterpart, was sectioned into merely three rooms. One of the two smaller ones was the master bath, styled like it's twin, only with both shower and luxurious bath, and two sinks, on which one side was messier than the other. The second of the smaller rooms was the laundry room, which also housed the heater and breaker for the building. 

The last and largest of the rooms was the foyer, which was stylized to bleed into the living room, which was merely a stone-throw’s away from the kitchen. None of which were separated by a wall. Instead, there was a fuzzy mat and shoe rack that sat on the concrete floor next to the front door. In the kitchen was an oven that doubled as a stove, a fridge, a sink, and a microwave, all of which were stainless steel. The counter tops were granite, and in some way to distinct the kitchen from the living room, was a sizable island, where most of the knives and cutting boards sat at the ready. In the living room, sat a low cabinet, holding various DVDs and gaming systems. Above that was a large flat screen TV, installed into and hanging from the bare brick wall. Across from those were several pieces of dark leather furniture, resting atop a fuzzy gray rug. 

Laying on one of the dark leather couches, slept a dirty blonde woman, knees tucked into her chest and hands pillowing her head. Rosy lips were parted slightly, as she was lightly snoring. She wore a light blue long sleeved shirt and black yoga pants that hugged her slim form, marble attached to the necklace that hung around her neck. She slept peacefully until the front door opened and closed, a masculine voice calling out to her.

“Mom, I'm home!”

Immediately sitting up and rubbing her eyes, she stifled a yawn and stretched her arms. “Welcome home Beej! How was school honey?”

“It was pretty good, at least, as good as school can be.” The teenager grinned, tossing his backpack on the wooden table shoved in the corner, kicking off his shoes in the process. “How was your day mom?”

The woman looked over her shoulder, tossing her arms in the air and smiling. “It just got better, now that my boy's home!”

Knowing what she wanted, the boy sauntered around the couch and sat down next to the woman, wrapping his arms around her. She squeezed him tightly, before cupping his face in her hands and kissing his plethora of freckles. Two pairs of green eyes smiled at each other when her hands carded through his short dark brown hair. 

“Any exciting news, Beej?” She asked, letting go of her son, allowing him to retreat to his side of the couch.

“Yeah, actually.” The boy grinned, fishing out a paper from the pocket of his leather jacket, guitar pick swaying on its string wrapped around the boy's neck. “Our biology class is joining another one from a different school, and is going on a field trip to the river to dissect mussels and stuff.”

“The river?” The smile fell off the woman's lips as she clutched the paper with a shaky hand, hastily reading the permission slip. “Honey, I don't want you going on this trip.”

The teen's grin turned into a look of confusion. “Uhm, okay.”

“You or your friends. Beej this trip, this place, on this day, I just-”

“I understand mom.” The boy chuckled. “Really I do, when you say that, I understand.”

Reassured, the woman smiled and placed the paper down on the coffee table. “I'll call your friend's parents. You all can spend the night here. While I'm at it, I'll call the school, tell them that you guys will be conducting your own experiments here. We can watch discovery channel!” 

With a bubbly giggle, she bounded off the couch and into the kitchen, where her phone was charging. Dialing the number she knew by heart, she pressed the device to her ear and sat back down on the couch, plopping her feet into her son's lap. 

“Hey, Amber?” A female voice answered after two rings. “Hold on, Harold's here, I'm going to put you on speaker.”

“Hello, hello! Can you hear me Harold?” Amber chirped. 

“Loud and clear Amber.” A deep voice rumbled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, Beej just handed me his permission slip for this Friday, and I told him that I didn't feel comfortable with him going down there. I haven't heard very good things about the area lately, and I wanted to call you guys about it.” She paused, twisting her body around to brace her back on the arm rest. “I was thinking that instead he and all of his little friends could spend the day at my house and I would watch over them for you guys, and I could spend time with Beej, and the other parents could have a date night.”

The woman on the other end, Joyce, hummed. “Yeah, Harold and I were just thinking it over. I've heard some pretty bad things about the area too. We'd love to have Claire be somewhere we know she's safe. Let me go ask her.”

Joyce called for her daughter, and after a few moments there was a muffled reply. 

“Honey, do you just want to go to Ms. Lafayette's house instead of the field trip?” The woman paused once more. “She said she'd love to Amber. She also wants you to know that you're amazing and wonderful, and that she loves you.” 

Amber laughed, reaching over and pinching her son's cheek, as he batted her hand away. “Your daughter spoils me, I'm glad that Beej has such an endearing girlfriend. Speaking of which, the girls will sleep upstairs, while the boys take the living room. I promise I'll keep and eye out for any-”

Harold laughed while his wife giggled. “Amber! We know nothing will happen over there, your son is too gentlemanly to do anything or let his friends do anything unsavory.”

“Well thank you, I've tried my best to raise him right.” The dirty blonde's eyes got a bit watery as she watched her son press his lips to the tips of her fingers lovingly. “Alright, you two enjoy your date night, I have to call the others now.”

“Alright Amber, thanks so much again! Bye!”

“Alright, so we've got Claire, Alex, Rachael, Drew, and Mitch.” The teen counted the names on his fingers, after his mother had finished the last call. 

“Yup! And I was able to convince your principal to give his blessing!” The woman grinned, hitting the lock button on her phone. “All at the low, low price of pushing the school mural up on my priorities list.”

“Didn't you just finish that yesterday?” The brunette chuckled. 

“Yes, but he doesn't know that!” The woman laughed, springing up when the alarm sounded on the microwave. “I meant to ask, how's lasagna for dinner sound?”

“Delicious.” Jumping up, the son strode into the kitchen, grabbing plates and silverware and setting them on the table as his mother pulled the dish out of the oven. 

A mere handful of days of school and work later, and it was Friday. After a short jingle of keys and click of a lock, six teens streamed into the front door of the brick house. 

“Dude, where's your mom?” An ebony skinned boy, Drew, asked as he shoved his hands into his dark skinny jeans.

“Out.” Another boy, tall and lanky with shoulder length curly light brown hair, answered, holding up a piece of paper he found on the kitchen island. “Says she's at the market grabbing mussels for us.”

“Does it say when she's getting back Mitch?” A blonde haired blue eyed girl dressed in blue jean shorts and a white and blue letter man jacket far too big for her called, walking in with her arms around her boyfriend's waist. 

“Nope. Sorry Claire.”

“Hey! Don't be sad!” A short bubbly Asian girl dragged Claire away from her boyfriend. “I'm sure that Ms. L will be home soon.”

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't drag my girlfriend around Alex.”

“Oh, hush Jay.”

The freckled teen just chuckled, holding open the door for the last teenager, Rachael, a sassy red headed chick. 

“Yeah BJ, she was ours first.” She popped the bubble she had formed with her blue gum. 

The blonde wrenched herself away from her friend, clutching her chest. “But alas! For I love dear Bee far more than either of you!”

The boys let out a sound whoop of laughter, while the blonde escaped into the arms of her beloved, leaving the other girls in the dust. But they shook it off with a laugh, and each accepted a can of soda that was being passed around. They each took their seats on the couches as they had a thousand times previously, Alex snatching up the remote and turning the TV on. Not fifteen minutes later, just as Alex had predicted, the older woman was knocking on the door, arms full of groceries. 

“Hey Ms. L!”

“Hey guys!” She called back, pecking her son on the cheek as he closed the door for her. “You ready for a scientific day?”

“Yes ma'am, though, I don't think I'm ready for this much science!” Mitch gaped when he saw the enormous bag of mussels. 

The woman laughed as she pulled out several cutting boards and knives. “Well, if it makes you feel better, not all of those are for dissecting. I thought we'd have Italian mussels and pasta for dinner.”

“That sounds delicious Ms. L!” Rachael chirped, helping Claire and Drew put away the rest of the groceries the woman had bought. 

When all the groceries were in their respectful places, mother and son set up the experiment, while Alex changed the TV channel to animal planet. The day ensued with dissections, laughter, gardening, sandwiches, board games, football, painting, dinner, and finally with everyone settling down to watch a movie in their pajamas. Amber was smiling to herself and cleaning the mess in the kitchen when her phone rang. 

“Yellow?”

“Amber! Oh my God! It-it's horrible! It's just horrible!”

“Woah, woah, Joyce! Calm down!” Clutching the phone to her ear, she set the pan down and turned off the running water. “What's wrong? What's going on?!”

“T-turn on the news.”

The teens, overhearing the distraught voice in the kitchen had muted the television. The dirty blonde woman rushed over, grabbing the remote off the coffee table, and the screen flickered from the movie to a live broadcast. The screen depicted scenes of police officers barricading the road, children and adults being administered to by paramedics, and a school bus half submerged into a river. The bulletin scrolling across the bottom of the screen read: Freak Accident, Three Dead And More Injured. 

“I don't know what I would do if Claire was on that bus Amber. Th-thank you so much for talking me out of it.”

The night drew to a close with similar phone calls from the other grateful parents, tears, and the mourning of the students from other schools. 

 

“You want to investigate the school?!” A heavy set, balding man exclaimed, dabbing his head with a crumpled handkerchief.

A tall man with long brown hair sent a glance to his shorter freckled counterpart. “Yes, Mr. Lobatos, that is correct.”

“Do you really think that someone from this school could have anything to do with the accident?” Eyes fluttering between the two suited men.

“We just want to cover all of our bases.” The freckled man answered, looking up from the fish tank. “Is there going to be any problems with the FBI setting up an undercover investigation?”

“No!” The principal squeaked, pausing to clear his throat. “No, of course not. We can send Mr. and Mrs. Lawson on a paid vacation, they're retiring this year. You and your partner can take over their classes. They teach history and technology.”

The shorter agent nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “That's fine, I'll take history while my colleague takes technology.”

The taller man shot him a glare, flexing his jaw before turning his eyes onto the principal. “There were kids that were scheduled to be on the field trip, correct?”

“Yes, that's right, six of them.” The principal began to shuffle through the different stacks of papers on his desk, pulling out on in particular and holding it out to the agents. 

The shorter of the two snatched it before the other could grab it, leaving him to ask more questions. “Were these students present on the trip?”

“No, they all decided not to go.” He paused, then added. “They also missed that Friday, if that's relevant.”

The shorter man snapped up from the paper. “That's very relevant. Why did they skip?”

“Oh! Uhm!” Mr. Lobatos searched nervously through his papers once more, reading over a small slip before handing it to the smaller agent. “It says it was an excused absence. They were ill, is what I assumed.”

“Thanks. I think that's it for now. We'll be back on Monday.” With that he turned on his heel and left, taller agent following after him. 

They walked in silence out of the school and into the parking lot, strolling up to a 1967 Chevy Impala. Shorter man getting into the driver's seat, the taller was left to hop into the passenger's. They remained silent until they were out of the lot and several blocks down the road. That's when the taller of the two spoke up.

“You can't be thinking that six teenagers had anything to do with that accident Dean.”

“That's exactly what I'm thinking, Sammy.” The Winchester retorted, pressing on the gas to get through the yellow light. “There's no way that six kids skip out on school the day a school bus gets attacked by shifters and have nothing to do with it.”

“It could be a coincidence.” 

“There's no such thing as a coincidence in our line of work.” The brother muttered, pulling into a motel and grabbing the papers as he left the car. 

“They're just kids Dean!” Sam barked, hot on his brother's heels. 

Once inside the small room, the eldest Winchester shrugged off his suit jacket and cracked open a beer from the mini-fridge. “Shifter kids, who just aced their rite of passage.”

The younger man rolled his eyes and closed the motel door, shrugging off his own jacket before sitting down in front of his laptop at the small table provided. “And what do we do if they are shifters? Lock them up and wait for their parents to come for them?”

“No that's stupid.” Dean took a swig out of his glass bottle, plopping down on the mattress and flicking on the television. “We follow the kids to their parents and take them out first.”

“Can we at least test them first, before you go all gun-ho and start stabbing people?” The younger brother chuckled dryly. 

“Sure, fine.” The older brother grumbled, changing stations until he reached a channel that was playing reruns of his favorite corny love doctor show. “Whatever helps you sleep at night baby brother.”

Sam scoffed before returning to his research. 

 

“So I'll pick you up at three?”

“Yeah.”

“And you'll call if you need anything?”

“Of course.”

“Alright, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Bye Beej!”

“Bye Mom!”

The freckled boy waved and watched as his mother's gray Prius sped off school grounds, stumbling a bit when he was bumped into by a familiar ginger.

“Why'd your mom drop you off BJ?” She questioned nonchalantly, popping a stick of bright blue gum into her mouth.

Shrugging, the boy adjusted the straps of his backpack. “The check engine light turned on in my car, so it's in the shop because mom insists that I should go to school instead of work on it since I missed Friday. I should have it back to drive myself tomorrow.”

“That sucks.”

“Eh, it's not really that big of a deal. She promised that if the problem is something that can't be fixed in one day that she'd just have it towed home so I can work on it. Besides, mother knows best.” He grinned, holding open the door for Rachael, who cooed at him.

“Aww, you really are a momma's boy, ain't cha?” She laughed, looping arms with Alex who had been waiting for them. 

“So what if I am?” The boy sneered. “She's hands down the best mom on the face of the earth.”

“He's got a point.” Mitch interjected, catching the conversation as it passed his locker. “Ms. L is kinda the coolest adult ever.”

“Yo guys, did you hear?” Drew called from his desk as the group entered the classroom. “Mr. and Mrs. Lawson went off on a trip, so we've got new substitutes.” 

“Ugh, I hope they're at least half as entertaining as Mr. and Mrs..” The freckled boy muttered, bending down to give his girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek. “Hey babe.”

“Hey Bee.” The blonde giggled, while her friends made a gagging noise. 

Before the discussion could go further, a suited man walked into the room as the school bell rang. 

“Uhh, hello class.” The man stood behind his desk awkwardly, clearing his throat before continuing. “I'm sure you're all aware that Mr. and Mrs. Lawson are away this week, so I'll be your substitute. My name is Mr. Arrow, you can just call me Mr. A.” 

He seemed to have rolled his eyes at the mention of his name, but the kids ignored it. Mr. A bent down behind his desk and pulled out a gray plastic bin, straightening up and brushing his long hair out of his face. 

“So, this week we'll be working with video cameras and editing film. So for today we'll just play around with the settings, learn the different buttons, and film your classmates.” The tall man rubbed his hands together, eyes darting around the room. “There's only a few cameras, so you'll have to form groups.”

Without need of another word, the classroom erupted into chaos, each student scrambling to get their desired partner, excluding the six students who were the last to enter the room before their student. Drew with Mitch, Rachael with Alex, and Claire with her boyfriend. The freckled boy immediately went to the desk, and after receiving a strange look from the sub, took a video camera and began to film his subject. The girl was all blushes and fluttering lashes, avoiding the camera and smiling shyly from behind her golden curtain of hair. 

“Come on babe, smile for the camera!”

“Bee!” With peals of laughter, the girl shoved the camera out of her face. 

The boy held the camera at arm's length, turning it to film him while he swooped in and pressed a chaste kiss to the girl's lips. 

“Cut that out you two!” Mr. A commanded with a chuckle. “Also, everyone hand over their cameras to their partners.”

As soon as Mr. A turned his attentions elsewhere, the freckled boy gave his girlfriend another kiss and pressed the camera into her hands. After that, he shot up and took a few steps back, striking a pose with his hands on his hips. 

“I'm ready for my debut.” He gave a cheeky grin and wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Give me a second Bee!” Claire giggled, fiddling with the device. “I've got to figure out the settings first.”

In a flash, the boy was at her side, patiently pointing out the different buttons and telling her what they did. Within moments, the girl had turned to filter to capture video in black and white. 

“Doll, the money maker's up here.” He chuckled when the girl started recording with the camera pointed at his feet.

“I know that.” She mumbled, slowly angling the camera up. “I want the viewers to get the complete experience.”

The substitute in the mean time, not having to do any boring paperwork, studied the group of students. Searching for anything that might clue him in on their ancestry. He was busy watching a group of two boys when he heard a soft cough next to him, causing him to jump and face the blonde. 

“Yes, Ms....”

“Elliot, sir.” She squeaked. “I was, um, wondering how to turn off or reduce glare.”

“Glare?” The brunette echoed, looking around the room but not finding anything that would produce such a thing. “Show me what you're having trouble with.”

Getting up from his desk, the man followed the girl as she bounded off back to her desk, where her boyfriend was waiting. 

“Okay Bee, hold still.” Claire commanded, turning on the camera and opening the side screen, tilting it up for the taller man looking over her shoulder.

“What?!” The man jumped when the screen flickered on, displaying the boy's freckled face with two bright orbs for eyes. 

“Yeah, you see? So how do I turn down the glare?” The girl hummed, thinking nothing of the boy's reflective eyes.

Ignoring her question, the man looked up to the other teen. “Why are your eyes glowing?”

“Oh!” The boy jumped. “Uhm, here, let me show you.”

The man tensed as the boy reached up to his face. His fingers went into his eyes, fishing around before retracting, holding up a small clear object victoriously. Keeping the, now contact-less, eye closed, he held the lens up to the camera.

“See?” He asked, when the contact flashed as he moved it in the screen. “I've got this weird brand that is super reflective. I'd get something different, but these work really well and feel good, so I just deal with having to take an extra ten minutes when taking pictures.”

“I see.” The man muttered, gently taking the camera from the girl's hands. “Here, this button is how you can adjust the filter that allows light in.”

“Thank you Mr. A!”

“You're welcome Ms. Elliot.” The man grinned, handing the camera back to the girl before turning his attention to the boy. “And you're...?”

“Lafayette.” The brunette gave a small grin while he put his contact back in. “Mr. Lafayette.”

Before the substitute could tell Mr. Lafayette that he wanted to see the boy after class, the bell rang, and within moments the classroom was empty. 

“Heh.” He chuckled, running his hands through his hair. “Kids.”

A few hours later, after the lunch bell had rung, the technology teacher was sitting at his desk when the door swung open to reveal a freckled suited gentleman. With greasy white paper bag in had, the new face pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the desk, pulling out of foil wrapped object and offering it to the brunette. 

“Thanks Dean.” He grinned, putting aside his laptop and accepting the parcel. “How's history going?”

“Boringly, no one's reacted to the silver yet.” The man muttered between mouthfuls of burger. “How are things on your end?”

“Well.” The younger brother had the decency to swallow before continuing. “There was a kid this morning, but that's about it. He kinda looks like you.”

“He what?!”

“He looks like you, Dean. At least, a little like you. Short hair and freckles.” Sam answered, nabbing a few fries from the bag. “Ever know a girl with the last name 'Lafayette'?”

“If I had a kid with her, I never asked for her last name, Sammy.” The Winchester snapped. “But that's besides the point! What was so weird about the kid?”

Holding up a finger, the man swallowed the last of his burger and crumpled the foil before answering. “His eyes glowed on the feedback of the camera.”

“What?!” The eldest brother jumped. “You didn't find that a little suspicious?!”

“Well, yeah, of course I did Dean.” Sam snapped. “But his girlfriend didn't pay it much mind, and he explained that it was his contacts that were the problem. He showed them to me.”

“Contacts, huh?”

The younger brother rolled his eyes as the sarcastic tone in his brother's voice. “Yes, Dean, contacts. Contacts he took out of his eyes and showed me that they were reflective to cameras. He wasn't in the least bit nervous that I was asking him about it.”

The shorter man hummed, in thought, as he gathered the trash and threw it in the bin beside the desk. “What did you say the kid's name was?”

“Lafayette. He was one of the kids on the list that missed the field trip” The Winchester answered. “Why?”

“So I can keep an eye out for him. If he's got no problem in history class, then we can rule him out.”

Before the younger Winchester could tell his senior that there was nothing to worry about, the bell rang again, signaling the end of the lunch period. The freckled one of the pair stood up, putting his chair back in its original place, brushing the crumbs off his suit. 

“See you after school, Sammy.”

A few more hours later, and six teens were on their way to the final period of the day. 

“You know, the technology substitute was pretty cute.” The small Asian nudged the taller brunette with her elbow. “Huh, Mitch?”

“He's alright, I guess.” He muttered, rubbing his now sore arm. 

“I hear that the history substitute isn't so bad looking either.” When she received a nasty look from Drew, she quickly laughed. “I said that's what I heard! I don't believe them sugar!”

“Yeah, I'm sure.” The boy wrapped an arm around the girl possessively, much to her delight.

“Well, we'll see in a moment.” Claire stated simply, thanking her boyfriend as he opened the classroom door for her. 

Once inside, then sat down in their usual seats, watching the back of a short suited man writing on the white board. Once that bell rang for the period to start, he capped his marker and turned to face the students. 

“Alright kids, sit down, I will be your substitute while Mrs. Lawson is away.” He announced, eyes scanning the room. “My name is Mr. Smith.”

His eyes locked on to a freckled boy who failed to mask his laughter at the mention of his name.

“Is there something wrong with my name?” He snapped.

“No sir!” The boy struggled to get his laughter under control, and only succeeded when the blonde girl beside him slapped his arm. “It's just, there's another substitute...”

The man was beginning to grow impatient. “Yes, I'm aware of that.”

“Well, his name is Mr. Arrow, and your name is Mr. Smith. Arrow-Smith, like the band.” At the confession, the boy broke into another round of laughter. 

The man was shocked speechless for a moment. “Y-yeah. I guess that could be a bit funny.”

The boy giggled a bit more, then coughed into his hand, clearing his throat. “Okay, I'm good now. Sorry sir.”

“Alright, now, no more outbursts from you today, or you'll earn yourself a detention.”

“Yes sir.”

With that, the substitute began his lesson on American history, reaching back into the events that lead up to the departure of the Mayflower. He covered British, French, and Spanish royalty, how the continent got discovered, and finally got into the conditions of the contract that the pilgrims were under. 

“Now, the pilgrims were to send back wood, rope, tar, fish, and other goods back to England to pay their debt. But there were also others who sailed to America looking for even more valuable resources.” With that, the man reached into his desk and pulled out two metallic lumps the size of golf balls. “Gold and silver.”

He struggled to speak over the murmurs the students created. “Now, the silver is real, but the gold is fool's gold, so don't get any big ideas about taking it home with you.”

With that, he placed the two lumps on opposite sides of the room with instructions for it to be passed around, and sat back on his desk and watched the silver as it passed from one pair of hands to another.

“Hey now, let everyone see it.” He called out, when the blonde took the lump of silver from the freckled boy before he could grab it. 

“Oh, no sir, that's fine.” He muttered, shrinking away from the precious metal. 

“No need to be shy boy, touch it. It's not going to break.”

“Uhm, sir, Bee's allergic to silver.” The blonde spoke up. “He can't touch it. That's why I took it from him.”

“An allergy to silver?” The man muttered, walking around to the back of his desk and sorting through several papers. “What's your name kid?”

“Lafayette.”

The man paused in his search, looking pointedly at the student. “Lafayette?”

“Yes sir.”

“I'm going to need to see you after class.”

“But-”

“Didn't I warn you about disrupting class?” The man barked. “That's a detention, Mr. Lafayette.”

“But sir, I-”

The dismissal bell rang, and the rest of the class rushed to get out of the door, not wanting the teacher's rage turned on them. The blonde girl stayed behind, talking to the boy in a hushed tone before catching the man's gaze and muttering a quick goodbye. The boy stuffed his things into his bag angrily, but didn't move to leave. 

“I'm going to report this to the main office. Stay right here until I get back.” The man commanded, grabbing his suit jacket off the back of his chair before leaving the room.

The boy waited a few minutes before pulling out his cellphone and hitting speed dial. The phone hardly rang once before someone picked up the other end. 

“Hey Beej, I was just on my way to get you. What's up?”

“I'm going to be a bit late at school. I can walk home, so no need to come over.” The boy mumbled.

“Is everything alright?”

The woman waited patiently as the boy bit his bottom lip, a habit he picked up from his mother, and sighed. “I...Mom, I got detention.”

Her voice was more confused than angry, much to the teen's relief. “What happened baby?”

“There's this substitute and he got mad when I refused to touch this silver ore he brought to class and he gave me detention.”

“What?!” Now she was angry. “Didn't you tell him you have an allergy?!”

“I did mom, but he got angry and gave me detention anyways!” The boy jumped, worried that his mother was angry at him.

“That is ridiculous! I am going to the school right now and I am going to have a talk with your principal! I'll get this sorted and pick you up soon baby.”

“Alright. Thanks mom. Love you.”

“Love you too honey.”

The woman clicked end call and pressed on the gas, speeding to the high school. She parked and exited her Prius, slamming the door shut, and marched in and past the secretary. Bursting right into the principal's office.

“Ms. Lafayette-”

“Cut that crap, Anton! My boy's in detention thanks to one of your substitutes!” The woman seethed. 

“Amber, if he's in detention, he must have done something to-”

“He was put in detention because of his allergy!” The woman threw her hands into the air. “His allergy Anton! After how long you've known us and after all I've done for this school, he gets detention over his allergy?! What's next? Putting Drew in detention because he's black?!”

“Amber!” The balding man cried. “You know I'd never allow something like that!”

“I don't know anymore.” The woman shook her head. 

The man sighed in defeat. “Alright, alright. I get the picture, I'll expunge this from his record and I'll have a talk with my staff. He's a good kid, I expect this is all just some big misunderstanding.”

“I should hope so.” With that, the woman left the office, much calmer than when she had entered. 

“Sammy, it's that kid you told me about.” Dean muttered, walking back to his classroom, brother hot on his heels. 

“Lafayette?” The taller one questioned. “What did he do?”

“It's what he didn't do. He refused to touch the silver, said he had an allergy.” Dean stopped when something caught his eye, changing his course and going out through one of the side doors. “Where is he going?!”

The brothers watched as the freckled boy walked across the parking lot, holding hands with and older woman with dirty blond hair. The boy rubbed his neck as the woman smiled, and he shot a look behind him, catching the gaze of the two substitutes. He gave a small grin and a wave as he got into the passenger seat of a gray Prius. Before the brothers could get into the Impala and follow them, they saw Mr. Lobatos headed their way.

“Agents, I understand you're conducting an investigation, but I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from holding students after school hours without proper evidence.” He huffed, trying to catch his breath from running in his overweight condition. “Especially Ms. Lafayette's son.” 

“Why? Is she some huge donor to the school?” Dean grunted. 

“Not exactly. She painted the school mural.” He gestured to a beautiful painting of local heroes who had graduated from the school with a patriotic rendition of the American flag waving across the bottom, allowing the two to marvel at it's beauty as he continued. “But she is a hard working woman who suffered greatly. She fell in love with hot shot executive from the company she used to work at, who had kept his marriage a secret from her. When she got pregnant, the guy got cold feet and his lawyers told him to give her the boot and a sum of hush money. She lost her lover, her job, her reputation, her family, and her home, all in one fell swoop. All she has now is her son, who's her everything. She's very protective of him, and for good reason.”

“She lost her family?” 

“Yes, Mr. Arrow.” The principal nodded solemnly. “Her family disowned her when she refused to have an abortion.” 

“Wow...that's....” The freckled man took a deep breath and walked in a circle, using his thumb and pointer finger to brush his nose. “That's fucked up.”

“Yes, it is.” Mr. Lobatos nodded sadly, turning to walk away. “I advise that if you have questions for Mr. Lafayette, that you contact his mother first. Good day gentlemen.”

With that, the principal walked back to his office briskly, leaving the other two men standing on the sidewalk. The shorter of the two was fuming, hands on his hips, while the brunette watched as their boss walked into the school.

“Dean, if anyone knows that the kid's a shifter, it would be his mom.” He used hushed tones in case anyone else was lingering about. “But, I just- man, I do not feel like this kid could attack and kill someone. He was polite, respectful, and he's just a kid.”

“I know Sam, but if he is a shifter, he might know who actually attacked the bus.” Dean growled, turning his gaze to where the kid and his mother had driven off. “You know, he caught the thing about our names.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and he does, in a small way, look like me.” The man turned to his younger brother. “But he also looks like you.”

“Whatever.” Sam just rolled his eyes, stepping off the sidewalk and onto the pavement, headed towards their car. “You know how well I've done with the ladies. Besides, I use protection.”

“Are you saying that I don't?” Chuckling, the Winchester opened the driver's side door and slid into the seat. 

“Those words never left my lips.”

The following day, after issuing a formal apology to the freckled boy, Dean sat in the Impala drumming on the steering wheel, impatiently waiting for his brother. His eyes followed the boy as he gave a kiss to his girlfriend then parted from his clique, headed straight for a beautiful classic Mustang painted cherry red. The Winchester was giving the car and appreciative look over when his passenger door opened and in came his brother.

“Sorry, I had to get the film cartridges out of the cameras and-”

“Whatever, let's go.” Cranking up the car, he pulled out of the parking space, and mindful to the globs of students pouring out of the high school, followed a certain cherry red car. 

They kept a watchful eye on the Mustang from a few cars back, which was not very hard to do as it stuck out like a sore thumb. They started to get a bad feeling when they watched all the business of the city give way to empty spaces and run down buildings. However, once they turned a corner and saw the modern red brick building awaiting them, the feeling they were being lead into a trap vanished. Dean parked and watched as the boy parked next to the house, getting out and walking up to the front door and reading the note that had been tapped there. They quietly got out of the Impala when the boy set his backpack by the door and walked around to the back of the house. The brothers jogged as quietly as they could, rounding the corner and pouncing on their prey, who had been bringing around a large garbage can. Sam grabbed the boys arms and held them behind his back as Dean held a silver dagger to his throat. 

“Woah!” The boy yelped, struggling to get out of the taller man's grip. “Mr. A! Mr. Smith! What are you two doing?!”

“Look, we don't want to hurt you. We know you're a shifter. We just want to know what you know about what happened to the bus.” Dean's voice was low, trying to get the boy to calm down, even though he has holding a knife close to the poor thing's jugular. 

“Wh-what? A shifter? What's that?” The boy laughed nervously, shying away from the blade, trying to not let it touch his skin. 

Dean, however, had other plans, as he pressed the metal to the neck, scowling when the boy howled in pain and his skin sizzle. “Don't act clueless.”

“MOM!”

Dean whirled around, hearing a loud crash. He was faced with the dirty blonde woman he had seen the previous day. The garbage can lay behind her, where she had thrown it and caused the noise. Anger was rolling off of her in waves, her hands lay at her sides balled into fists.

“Let. Him. Go.”

When the short man didn't say or do anything, she strode up to him, stopping when she was just a few inches away. “I said. Let. Him. Go.”

His brain not functioning at full capacity, he immediately regretted the words that tumbled out of mouth. “Make me.”

In the blink of an eye, the woman wheeled back and sent a swift kick right between the man's parted legs, relishing the way he whimpered and crumpled to the ground. Turning to the taller brother, a simple glare was all it took for him to trow his hands in the air and step a few paces away from the boy. When he did, the woman rushed to her son's side, holding his face in her hands.

“Shhh, shh baby. Lean your head back a bit. There you go honey.” Gentle fingers traced the angry red line that graced the boy's neck. “Hush, hush, we'll go inside and get some aloe on it and you'll be good as new baby.”

“I'm sorry mom.” The boy mumbled, wincing as his mother's fingers grazed a particularly painful spot on his neck. 

“There's nothing to be sorry for baby.” She brought his head down and pressed a loving kiss to his forehead. “You couldn't have known they were following you.”

“I could have.” He muttered. “Who else comes out here?”

The woman merely laughed and ruffled the boy's hair, turning when Dean finally picked himself off the ground. 

“You know-” He coughed, trying to get his voice back in the right octave. “You know what he is, don't you?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. It doesn't make him any less my son, and it doesn't make me love him any less either.”

“Do you uh, do you mind if we talked to you for a bit?” Sam asked hesitantly.

She looked back and forth between the two before finally sighing. “Fine, but leave your knives out here.”

With that she looped arms with her son, walking him into the house. “My name's Amber, by the way.”

Sam rushed over to help his brother, who just waved him off and limped into the house, leaving his silver dagger on the ground outside where it had fallen. 

“You two are hunters, aren't you?” She called over her shoulder, letting her son sit down and then moving to the bathroom, leaving the door open so she could hear. “You're looking into the attack on the bus last Friday.”

“Yes ma'am.” Sam muttered, looking around and taking in the house. 

“Don't call me 'ma'am'.” She poked her head out of the bathroom, glaring at him. “Makes me feel old.”

“Whatever lady.” Dean barked. “Why did your son miss school that Friday?”

“I didn't want him and his friends going on that trip. Didn't hear good things about the area. They were with me all day.” She answered, exiting the bathroom and entering the kitchen, grabbing a bag and filling it with ice. “So you can stop thinking that they had anything to do with it.”

“Your son's a shifter. Is there anyway he could know the shifters who did?”

“I'm right here, you know.” The boy snapped, accepting the bag of ice his mom handed him. “If there are any other shifters in this town, I don't know them.”

“How come?” Dean grumbled, whimpering slightly as he sat down on an adjacent couch. 

“Because my mom raised me right. Other shifters change all the time and kill people, but I don't. I was raised knowing exactly what I was, what I could do, and what others like me have done.” The boy winced slightly as he pressed the bag to his neck. “I didn't, and don't, want any part of it. I haven't shifted since I was a baby, and I have no plans to take anyone's life.”

“Beej, we're out of aloe, so I'm going to run to the store real quick and pick some up. Shouldn't be gone longer than a few minutes. Okay?” The woman sent wary look to the two men. 

“We promise we won't do anything Amber.” Sam reassured her. 

“Alright.” With a quick kiss to the top of her son's head, the woman grabbed her keys and swiftly exited the house. 

“So...” Dean trailed, relaxing now that she had left. “Your crazy bitch mom was a business woman.”

“Fuck you, she's an angel.” The boy snapped, glare quickly turning into a small smirk. “And no, she just told that story to everyone when she first moved here to raise less suspicion.”

“Oh, yeah?” The taller of the two brothers raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah. She's not my birth mother, but she raised me ever since I was a baby. She didn't name me either, but-” The boy paused, realizing something. “Are Arrow and Smith your real names?”

The pair sent each other a glance before the freckled one shrugged. “No. My name's Dean Winchester, and this is my younger brother Sammy.”

“Sam.” The brunette interjected.

“Alright.” The boy nodded, before continuing his story. “Well, anyways, apparently there was this hunter who was hunting down my dad. My biological dad. And while looking for him, he found me. Not really sure what to do, he took me in and cared for me, despite some other hunters grumbling about it. But some shifters came after me. My dad, the hunter who found me, rescued me once from a shifter in a grocery store, but later there were more shifters. They beat up my dad real good and took me from him. They were leaving with me when my mom swooped in and saved me. Mom and dad weren't romantically involved, mom says that dad didn't even know she existed. Well, she took me and ran away somewhere safe and raised me as her own. End of story.”

“A hunter took you in and then lost you to shifters who came to take you back?” Dean glanced at his brother before looking back to the freckled boy. “Are you sure it was only one hunter, kid?”

“Yeah I'm sure. And my name's not 'kid'.” The boy snapped. “My dad named me before I was taken from him. Mom says he named me after the two people he saw as a father.”

Sam licked his chapped lips. “What's your name?”

“Bobby-John.”

“You can't be Bobby-John.” Dean's eyes widened in disbelief. “You can't be little baby Bobby-John.”

“Why not?” The boy shifted in his seat. “Do you know me?”

“Because we're the hunters who lost a baby shifter named Bobby-John a year ago.”

“I'm back Beej!”

“Bobby-John?!” Dean shot up from his seat, turning to face the woman who had just entered. “His name is Bobby-John?!”

“This jerk's my dad?!” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Everyone calm down.”

“I'm calm.”

“Thank you Sam.” The woman deadpanned, handing the bottle of aloe to her son. “I assume you told them how I found you and your name?”

The boy put the bag down on the coffee table, wiping his wet neck with his sleeve. “Yeah.”

Amber let out a puff of air, disturbing her bangs. “Whew, boy. Okay. Uhm, let's all just sit down for a bit and let me explain.”

“Please! Let's start with how in the hell you took a baby and turned him into a sixteen year old in a single goddamned year!” The freckled man lifted him arms and let them fall with a sound slap. 

“Sit down, Dean Winchester.” She growled, growing impatient with the man's actions. 

“And, uhm.” The younger brother stuttered when he caught the woman's glare. “Perhaps, if you could explain how you know our names without us telling you?”

The woman groaned, rubbing her eyes and flopping down on the couch next to Bobby-John. She sat there for a bit, waiting until Dean and Sam sat down before speaking. 

“Okay, so first thing's first. Yes, this is Bobby-John, the baby you two lost.”

“But how-”

“I said 'first thing's first'.” She shot a glare at the offender, who immediately shut his trap. “Next is Beej's question.”

She sighed, clasping her hands and turning to the teen. “Honey, when I told you that your father didn't even know I existed, it wasn't an 'oh, he doesn't know that I love him' sort of thing. I was being literal. These two, your fathers, didn't know I existed until yesterday, when they saw me taking you home in the parking lot.”

“So, there were two hunters, not just one.” The boy scratched the back of his head. “But why tell me there was only one?”

“So something like this wouldn't happen!” She spread her hands, gesturing to the brothers. “But it seems that fate had been written that we all should meet, so I suppose no matter how hard I tried it would have ended up like this anyway.”

She reached over, brushing a thumb over the boy's freckled cheek. “But, I did tell you about your fathers once before. When you were a baby. I told you how brave they were, how kind, even when it seemed like they were being gruff it was just how they protected people. I told you what they looked like and-”

She laughed, tossing her head back. “And you shifted! You took what I said and applied it to yourself! Except your eyes, you kept my eyes.”

“That...explains some things.” Sam admitted. 

“But not everything.”

“No, not everything.” Amber put her palms up, asking for forgiveness. “How I know you two, how I was able to save Bobby-John, why he's been gone a year and turn up as sixteen year old, those are the questions you have that I haven't answered yet. Well, the first can be explained as that I've followed you two for some time, and have heard of you two even longer. I didn't want to interfere, but when Beej was taken, well...”

She looked over and grabbed the teen's hand, who interlaced his fingers with hers. “Well, I had to save him. When that happened, I knew I had to take him somewhere safe. I couldn't bring him back to you two, you had other things you needed to do. I couldn't just sit around with him, the shifters were looking for him.”

“So you ran here.” The taller Winchester noted. “That doesn't explain his age.”

“It's not so much as where I ran with him.” She muttered, avoiding the brother's gaze. “As when.”

“You took him back in time?!” Dean shot up from the couch. “How is that even possible?! How could you-”

The boy's words from earlier rang in his head, and Amber visibly tensed. 

“You're an angel.” He pointed dumbly at her. “That's how you heard about us, that's how you were able to follow us without us knowing, that's how you were able to beat the shifters, that's how you were able to take him back.”

The woman was silent for a long time, head bowed and curtain of hair covering her face. She took a gulp of air and let out a shaky breath. 

“Yes, I am. Sorry, it's been a long time since I've told anyone.” She looked up, smiling. “I wanted to make sure the air waves were clear. Several other angels having been looking for me for quite some time.”


End file.
